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“Alina? I’m home!” Mishka calls, the front door of our modest ranch-style Pennsylvania home closing with a thud.
“How was your day?” I ask, setting young Sascha down as he starts to squirm at the sound of his father’s voice.
The mischievous little toddler giggles in delight as soon as his feet hit the floor. Leading the way, he rushes into the front room to greet Mishka. I follow on his heels, smiling as Mishka stoops to scoop Sascha up against his chest.
“Papa!” he squeals, wrapping his tiny arms around Mishka’s strong neck and squeezing.
“Hey, kiddo,” he greets with a warm smile, and he plants a kiss on our little boy’s temple. “My day was good. Busy.”
“Brothers Electric is really starting to take off,” I observe. I’m proud of Mishka for having thrown so much energy into earning his electrician’s license and opening his own company. He’s taken to entrepreneurship like I wouldn’t believe, and I love that he’s finally doing legitimate business—no more illegal gun runs, no dangerous raids.
“I might have to hire a few more people pretty soon here,” he states, and as he shifts Sascha onto one hip, he leans in to grasp my waist and give me a kiss.
“Mmm,” I hum appreciatively, melting against him. “Maybe then you can start being on time for dinner again,” I tease.
“Sorry, love. My last inspection ran late.”
“That’s okay. But Sascha and I have had a pretty big day too, haven’t we, buddy?” I ask as Mishka sets him down.
“Yeah!” he exclaims, and his tiny feet pound as he races back into the dining area off the kitchen. Our little boy runs everywhere now that he’s gotten the hang of it, and I can’t help but chuckle at his enthusiasm. “We made pelmeni!” he adds, bouncing by the seat that holds his booster.
Beside his chair, Boris sits patiently, tail thumping on the floor as he anticipates the meal he’s about to share. My loyal, trusty Karelian bear dog seems to have adopted my son as his new master. It makes me chuckle to know I’m all but chopped liver in comparison. But I don’t mind. I love seeing them together. Two peas in a pod. They’re complete troublemakers, constantly underfoot. And I adore every minute of it.
“Oh, are we celebrating something?” Mishka teases, his eyes lighting as he looks at me from the doorway.
I don’t often make my Russian dumplings, but they’re one of the few meals I excel at, so that’s the dinner request I get for special occasions. Which is why I took the day off from the vet clinic so I could make them.
“You could say that,” I say lightly, and I rest my hand on my stomach—a subtle hint to see if he picks up on it.
My sharp-eyed husband doesn’t miss a thing, and he glances down to my abdomen for the briefest of moments before looking back up at my face. “Wait, are you…?”
“Pregnant?” I nod, my smile spreading. “The doctor confirmed it this afternoon.”
Joy breaks across Mishka’s face, and in a flash, he pulls me into his arms. “Alina, that’s amazing!” He kisses me deeply, all his love and affection pouring into my soul.
“Me too! Me too!” little Sascha calls, his feet pounding as he runs to bounce beside us.
Boris joins in now, yipping as he shuffles beside our son.
Laughing, Mishka scoops Sascha up once more, and we share a hug that fills my heart. I don’t think he fully understands the concept of a sibling yet, but we’ll have eight months to help him wrap his mind around it. Our little boy is such an affectionate soul, I don’t doubt he’s going to make a wonderful older brother, though. Just like his namesake.
We settle in for dinner, and as I serve Sascha a portion of dumplings, Mishka watches me with a knowing smile.
“So, did you go into the clinic at all today, then?” he asks playfully. When we parted this morning, I left him under the impression that it was going to be just another ordinary day because I wanted to surprise him if my suspicion proved correct.
“No, Emily agreed to cover my shift so I could make my appointment and then come home to cook. Sascha and I got to have a nice adventure together.”
Mishka chuckles. “You had me fooled.”
I grin mischievously. “Am I in trouble?”
He quirks an eyebrow, his expression turning dangerous. “Nothing I can’t find a way for you to make up for later tonight.”
My stomach quivers with anticipation at his dark promise. I love the spice we’ve developed in the bedroom. It keeps the passion alive and fresh, even when our lives are so busy and full of distractions.
“Yes, sir,” I tease. Slipping my fork into my mouth, I slide the dumpling from its tongs with suggestive slowness.
Mishka rumbles a growl of anticipation, then he turns his eyes to his food. We can’t get too carried away now. We’ll have to wait until Sascha’s safely tucked in for the night.
